Endor
by BarnFowl
Summary: The Death Star has just been destroyed. The Empire has suffered a crushing defeat on the forest moon of Endor. The special ops squad "Claymore" has just been shot down by Alliance forces while transporting a package that could change the tide of the war. It is up to Serhas Vaitli, Claymore's captain, to complete their mission and avenge the lives lost on the Death Star...
1. Introduction

The tinting of emergency lights bathed the passenger hold in a deep, almost crimson red. Panicked beeping, an alarm, drowned out the shifting of metal as the Lambda-class Transport Shuttle sailed through the skies of Endor, leaving a smoke trail across the sky, scarring it with a deep cut of black. However, not even the automated pings of the mayday signal could win over the equally frightened wails of the recruits within the vessel. The co-pilot's voice - as the actual pilot had fallen out of the Lambda when the cockpit was breached - called out on some emergency Imperial channel. The intercom system aboard the shuttle must have been damaged, though, because the troops inside could only hear static, coupled with clips of the co-pilot's calm but strained voice.

"_/-aymore-4 has been stru-/"_

"_/-Pilot is KIA, repeat, Pilo-/"_

"_/Requesting immedi-"_

The last cutoff of the woman's pleas for assistance were not due to the flaky speaker system, but because the Lambda struck the ubiquitous forests of Endor, completely ripping what was left of the cockpit free from the rest of the body. One final, gritty impact signalled that they made landfall, but that was all Serhas could register before being struck in the head by a loose metal plate. Darkness enveloped his vision as he lost consciousness, the Heads-Up-Display in his helmet fizzling out. He would be met by the ever enveloping darkness of the Void, blissfully unaware of his fast approaching death.

Or... was it even death at all?


	2. Chapter 1 - Limbo

The human mind is a wonderfully complex organ. Full of gray matter, synapses, and electrodes, it is arguably the most important piece of human biology; without it, none of the other organs receive direction, and either collapse entirely, or remain on standby, performing their duties until cell death. When left without, say, eyesight, the mind will fill in that missing sense with whatever it can muster, such as the senses of sound and touch. When rendered unconscious or comatose, the brain will keep itself active by creating a reality of its own to maintain sanity and prevent atrophy of the mind.

This is what Serhas told himself as he wandered through the hellscape he found himself in. He had awoken nearly instantly after the impact, and, presuming unconsciousness was like a forced slumber, thought nothing of it as he unhooked his harness and clambered out of the oddly vacant Lambda, the emergency lights still on but the alarms long dead. It would not be hard to imagine his shock as he came to behold what appeared to be... the Void?

The shuttle was parked haphazardly on some floating island, and when the scout trooper peered over the edge, he saw nothing but a dark abyss. When he peered out towards the horizon, however, he caught what appeared to be another similarly sized rock some fifty meters away.

"How am I supposed to reach that?"

As if on queue, a long platform of dirt, soil, and dead grass lifted from the expanse below, forming a picture perfect bridge to his destination. He let out a soft "hmph" as he stepped on the unexpectedly firm dirt, taking a slow pace towards the only other piece of land in this… place. Was it even a place? Or was this some sick fever dream his mind concocted as he lay in the shuttle in the real world, bleeding all over the wrecked Imperial metal?

Once both of his feet made contact with the second island, the bridge fell from its perch, ever downwards, to the deep below. Serhas had to catch his footing to make sure he didn't tumble with it. The contents of this floating piece of rock were… disconcerting, to say the least, though all the trooper could manage as a reaction was a quiet, muted curse.

This island was filled with shadows.

But not just any shadows, as one might expect, but these dark splotches took on the form of people. Serhas could make out the forms of Stormtroopers, and operatives of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, who appeared frozen in their protracted battle. He sidestepped long beams of the dark substance, which he perceived to be blaster bolts, and kept on, as if the island kept expanding as he walked. For all he knew, it was, as he had yet to encounter the end-

"Oh, come on. Are you reading my thoughts or something, spooky hell dimension?!"

No sooner did he have that musing than he found the end of the island - it was the cockpit of the Lambda. The sight perplexed him, as he figured it had been pulverized, but here it was. He stepped towards the wreckage, curious to what happened to the co-pilot that had just a few minutes before been begging the Empire to save them. He got his answer as he stepped through the shattered frontal window, catching the shadow… gazing at him with eyes that were missing from the previous beings. Well, he assumed they were eyes, as dim, yellow orbs hovered where he would expect the eyes to be. It tracked him by turning its head as he explored what remained of the cockpit, stepping over wreckage and debris as he moved to the back. He tried to open the cockpit door…

It was locked.

Serhas yelped as he felt powerful hands grab his shoulders and toss him aside, only barely managing to stay on his feet by leaning on the control console he was just flung into. He jumped into a CQC fighting position as his quarry drew closer - the shadow that had just moments ago been tethered to the pilot's chair. The shadow threw a right hook, and Serhas sidestepped and gripped the arm, pushing up on the elbow to shatter the joint. An injury that would normally disable a person had no effect on his enemy as he was once again grabbed from behind by another shadow, then from the front by the first. He caught a glance of the outside through the cockpit's viewport, and was startled to see that a mob had formed. Three more of the dark beings grabbed his extremities, and the scout trooper was left immobilized as he was dragged out of the cockpit, and closer to the edge of the island. Despite his vehement resisting, he simply couldn't break free from his enemies' grasps. He had nary a moment to concoct a plan of escape before he was heaved up… and thrown overboard. Serhas' screams of shocked terror were drowned out by the ever encroaching Void as he fell to what he thought would be his death. He fell for what felt like an eternity before finally catching what appeared to be the end of this pit.

It was the ground.

He feebly put his arms out to try to break his fall as he approached the ground, but right before he was to impact and turn into Endor's first human waffle… darkness swallowed his vision, and all thoughts were drowned out by a sort of static, growing to a deafening roar in his ears. Eventually, even this faded away, and he was once again met with the beckoning arms of the dark below.


	3. Chapter 2 - Awakening

Serhas awoke with a jolt inside the wreckage of the Lambda - the _real_ Lambda, he hoped - and gasped. He looked around and made sure that he wasn't flattened or anything.

"No… just… this arm wound…"

A nasty gash had developed on his left arm, which had cut through his plastoid armor and the black bodysuit, straight to the flesh. A thin piece of metal was lodged in between his shoulder and the metal seat behind him, with blood already darkening and caking.

How long had he been here?

Serhas unbuckled himself and shakily stood up, walking through the wreckage… and the bodies of his former comrades… to the medical kit that was posted by where the cockpit door once was. He fumbled it open and grabbed the small bacta tank inside, eyeing the bandages, which he would need to use in a moment. He glanced to the metal shard, and, without thinking enough to get cold feet, grabbed it and forcefully removed it. He screamed in agony as he quickly applied the bacta to the wound, his adrenaline the only thing keeping him from collapsing entirely. He needed to finish what he was doing before that wore off, so he hastily began wrapping the wound in thick gauze to keep it together and allow the bacta to encourage healing of the grievous wound. Once he cut the leftover material and sealed the wrap with medical tape, he lumbered and fell into a vacant seat, panting heavily as he tried to deal with the waves of sheer pain he was riding.

"Come on, Vaitli… keep it together… gotta… ngh, rendezvous… agh!..."

He would remain like this for the better part of a half-hour, fighting the desire to slip back into blissful unconsciousness. Now was absolutely the worst time to sleep, especially when he had a battle to fight.

Or did he?

All of the expected sounds of conflict had faded. There was only the occasional brief exchange of blaster fire, or a passing X-Wing, perhaps surveying the wreckage. Wait, X-Wing?

"Karablast."

Serhas stood up and began gathering supplies - his weapons of choice, the E-11s - a sniper variant of the Empire's signature blaster, the E-11 - and the EC-17 Holdout for a sidearm. Then came the four standard shock grenades, nonlethal alternatives to the thermal detonator. After that was the standard three days' worth of rations and other supplies that came with his equipment backpack, and then a small datachip - the most valuable asset on this ship, and the reason why they had been deployed in the first place. It carried Alliance documents that were vital to the war effort, and they could seriously hinder the Alliance if it fell into Imperial hands. In other words, if he didn't return with this, he might as well live out the rest of his days in Endor's forest.

"Well, well, mister data chip. You get to be Alliance Public Enemy Number Two."

Of course, being the one delivering the chip, he was Public Enemy Number One.

Once double checking his gear, Serhas opened the emergency shuttle door and stepped out, once more unto the breach. He was greeted by the strangely serene Endor landscape, startingly silent. Either he had landed way off course, or the battle had already been won.

"Or lost…"

The scout trooper was entranced with a scene in the sky, A slow sense of shock and dread creeping over him. There was a massive ball of fire in the sky, surrounded by destroyed Star Destroyers - how ironic - and… the wreckage of Lord Vader's flagship, the Executor.

This was the Death Star he was looking at. And it appeared that the Empire has lost. That deafening static he heard? That must have been the Death Star exploding.

After staring for a few moments longer, he turned his mind back to the task at hand, beginning a trek through the forest. Despite the fact that he had just been devastated by the gross loss of innocent life at the hands of these… terrorists, he still needed to get this intelligence to the Empire. He clung onto a forlorn hope that there was still a chance of victory, keeping an eye on the slowly dissipating supernova of the battle station as he walked.

"They can't get away with this. We won't let them. I can't let them."

(Forests, Day 1, Night)

A loud thud and the rustling of gear signalled Serhas' hitting of the ground. He had been marching in this direction for the better part of the day without rest, and now that it was nightfall, he could comfortably stop and rest without fear of getting shot by a cheeky Alliance sniper. He sighed as he crawled beside a fallen tree - it wasn't recent, as there were no leaves or branches left, simply the massive trunk - and relaxed for the first time since he boarded Claymore-4 yesterday.

"...right, let's see our selection of food."

He slid his backpack in front of him and started shifting through it, seizing the dried packets of food as he saw it. He came up with about twelve of the depressingly sized packets by the time he reached the bottom.

"Let's see… bantha steak… Lothalian bread and cheese… geez, these options blow."

He eventually settled on wheat pasta and imitation meat sauce, as he wanted to conserve the more appetizing entrees in case. He removed a can of water from the bag and cracked it open, ripping the food packet open and pouring a small sample of the liquid inside before resealing it. Apparently, that was all you needed to cook these things, so Serhas set it beside him to "boil" as he looked at his E-11s. No damage so far; in fact, it was almost as pristine as when it rolled out of the factory, minus some unappealing dirt gathering around the finer bits. He was about to begin cleaning it when he heard a tree branch snap.

In an instant, he whirled behind him and pointed his EC-17 at the source of the noise… an Ewok. It looked at him curiously, as if it didn't understand the scout trooper was literally pointing an instrument of death towards it. Serhas couldn't help but insult the intruder.

"Vermin…"

He reluctantly turned back around and began spot cleaning his rifle. Ewoks weren't much of a threat, especially when unarmed. He could ignore it.

That is, until it sat beside him.

The Ewok, seemingly either insanely brave or insanely stupid, stared at him with big, brown eyes. It fiddled with some trinket attached to its scarf - Serhas didn't care what it was - as it casually sat beside an agent of the very Empire that was supposed to be annihilating this world. He paid little attention to it until it picked up the rapidly heating nutrition packet, at which point he snatched it out of the Ewok's hands.

"That's mine, idiot."

The Ewok stared at its empty hands for a moment before returning to its prior activity, more glum than before. Serhas watched it through the corner of his eye and couldn't help but feel… pity for it. Why was he lamenting for a creature such as an Ewok, of all things? He couldn't shake the feeling, and, after some internal debate, caved in and offered the packet back to the bear-like creature.

"Fine. I probably won't need it anyway..."

The Ewok muttered something in its indescribable tongue, likely something of thanks or excitement, and eagerly began scooping out the contents of the packet with its hands, completely ignoring the plastic spork that was attached to the side.

"_Savage…"_

Serhas decided he would eat in the morning, after this little bugger left him, and went back to cleaning his rifle. The white rag he was using was a slight tint of brown by the time he finished, and he regarded the piece of cloth with distaste. Imperials were a lot of things, but _unclean_ was not one of them. Once satisfied, he collapsed his rifle, slipped it into his backpack, and engaged the biometric lock on it. He didn't trust the Ewok, as he knew they were shifty animals, and didn't want to risk getting robbed. He couldn't imagine dying because his weapons were stolen by an _Ewok._ The very thought was unthinkable - heck, it was actually kind of amusing.

"Heh, Ewoks…"

The thought elicited the first humorous response from him all day, a light, vocoded chuckle escaping his lips before he could silence it. And with that, he ended his night on a high note, drifting off to a light sleep, pack tucked snugly under his form.


	4. Chapter 3 - Fire Support

(Forests, Day 2, Morning)

When Serhas awoke, he found the Ewok missing, as he expected, but was pleasantly surprised to find he had all of his possessions with him - sans a nutrition pack, of course. Once he gathered his equipment and erased any trace that he had camped here, he looked up to the sky. The massive supernova of the Death Star had dissipated, replaced with the thin outlines of wreckage that had somehow miraculously survived the reactor explosion. He could hear fighting in the distance… it must be the Alliance cleaning up, or, if he was lucky, a group of Imperials giving some well deserved revenge.

With no other objective or even a sense of direction, Serhas followed the sounds of the firefight, and soon, the smoke. Some of the forest had been set alight - not an uncommon tactic by the Empire - and the treetop villages where the Ewoks lived were rendered smoldering wrecks. He couldn't help but smile a little when he heard one of the furry beasts screaming in agony, perhaps caught ablaze. The scout trooper was climbing a rather steep hill when he saw a fireball peek up from over the other side. He quickened his pace, taking a moment to unpack his E-11s before approaching. What he saw once he reached the summit didn't phase him, but would make a normal person quake in their shoes.

It was an absolute battleground. The actual ground had been burned and blackened, the embers still plainly visible. Trenches had been dug around an Imperial bunker, pockmarked with craters and shored with plasteel plating. Stormtroopers were holding the bunker with all their might, red blaster bolts crossing the no-man's-land with a vengeance. On the other side, Alliance forces approached, their camouflage blending in just a bit too well with the wilderness. Most of them appeared to be simple infantrymen, though he caught a few grenadiers in the mix, their thermal detonators likely responsible for all these impact craters.

Serhas adopted a prone position and adjusted his sniper rifle, dialing in on the Alliance side. Perhaps he could tip the favor by taking out those demolition experts… They most definitely wouldn't be expecting a top sniper from Claymore Squad to dome them from the side, anyway. He hoped.

A loud blast and the explosion of an Alliance grenadier's skull signified that he had began his attack. Another had an arm forcibly removed before the rebels figured out that they were being attacked from another angle. Serhas kept a cool, detached demeanor as he lined up another shot. Another pull of the trigger, and the grenade that was about to be thrown towards him detonated in a rebel's hand, indirectly killing three more instantly. His adrenaline spiked as he engaged the heat sink of the rifle, disabled for a moment as torrents of heat escaped the firing mechanism. A blaster bolt struck the dirt next to Serhas' head, and he slid back down the hill to change positions - getting killed this early was… undesirable, to say the least. A resounding roar broke the sniper from his bloodlusting trance, and he peeked above the summit to catch a glimpse of the battle. A tarp was being removed from a large tower, which revealed a turbolaser. Those things were meant to take out aircraft, so what were they do-

A massive green laser shot out from the cannon, sailing towards the clustered enemy. They had only a second to react before it made contact, the resulting explosion completely obliterating the offensive position they had set up. Those who remained immediately began fleeing, but the turbolaser prevented any sort of escape by destroying them as they revealed their positions. Serhas was only able to fire one more shot before the entire offensive force had been wiped.

After confirming that there was no other Alliance presence with his scope, he cautiously stood up and slid down the grassy hill, towards the Imperials. A stormtrooper approached him in turn, ejecting and loading another energy pack into their E-11 as they went. They spoke first, an appreciative tone coating their words.

"Thanks for the assist. Gave us the time we needed to boot up the turret."

"I'm impressed you managed to get it to fire," Serhas responded, "Don't they have limiters to keep them from lowering that much?"

"Oh, yeah, but Forner disabled it."

"Forner...?"

"Our, uh, what's the word… mechanic? There's probably an official title fo-"

"Where is your commanding officer?"

The stormtrooper hesitated for a moment before responding, his voice betraying a tint of guilt.

"Our original commander is KIA. His second, Kimlin, is inside."

Serhas nodded in thanks and walked past him, taking a moment to assess the aftermath of the assault before proceeding into the bunker.

(Listening Post, Day 2, Noon)

The change from the humid forests to the cold steel walls of the bunker felt reassuring to Serhas as he stepped down the long set of stairs, thinking about his next course of action. Of course, his first priority was getting this data chip to his commanding officer, Saris Okee. He was the captain of one Victory-II class Star Destroyer, aptly named the Eternal Fist - this destroyer had been in service since the height of the Clone Wars, and had seen numerous conflicts and commanders. Serhas would need to use the bunker's communication line to contact Okee and determine how to get back to the ship in one piece. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to ask what the Empire was going to do next. The loss of the Second Death Star must have been devastating…

When he finally entered the bunker proper, he was greeted with a discouraging sight. The emergency lights had been switched on, bathing the hallways in a familiar red, and blaster burns were present wherever one looked, on the walls and the floor. There were dead Alliance soldiers - and, unfortunately, a number of Stormtroopers - littering the bunker. Medics were treating injured troopers, while a few were traversing the dead, finishing off the rebels who still lay dying, spilling their treasonous blood all over the crisp Imperial metal. He stepped over a grenadier that had their top half incinerated, probably by their own ordinance, as he began searching for this 'Kimlin' fellow. He would have rathered the _actual_ Commander, but of course, he couldn't help that he was dead.

Following the signage, Serhas eventually found himself in the bunker's war room, where the surviving officer staff was located - all seven of them. Great. They stopped their conversation and turned to stare at him as he peered at the officers' rank tags until he found the highest ranking and approached her, wasting no time on formalities.

"Kimlin, right?"

The officer, who he assumed to be the Kimlin mentioned by that first trooper, looked up, annoyance contorting her face into that of restrained anger.

"I said we were not to be distur- wait. You aren't one of my troopers."

"What gave it away, my rank tag or my attitude?"

Kimlin sighed as she straightened her posture, as she had previously been hunched over the holotable that displayed a map, likely of the area, he didn't quite care what it was.

"Watch your mouth, soldier. I'm still the comma-"

"Save it. I'm with Claymore Squad."

At once, her face changed from frustration to brief surprise, then relief.

"Oh, m-my apologies. Where's the rest of your men?"

Serhas removed his helmet, and the solemn expression he wore spoke a million words. Kimlin continued, her tone apologetic.

"I'm sorry. I kno-"

For the second time, Serhas interrupted the officer.

"It isn't important. What _is _important is that I can contact my superiors and get off planet. I need to use your communication equipment to contact the Eternal Fist."

Kimlin sighed a second time, crossing her arms as she responded.

"This is a listening outpost, so normally, you'd be in luck. However, we lost contact with our satellite dish right before the attack, we assume the rebels somehow disabled it. Before we can re-establish contact with the Empire, it needs to be repaired. Remote diagnostics report that the power regulator was removed, causing one of the conduits to overheat and blow out."

"And I suppose this is the part where you ask me to go and fix it, single handedly?"

"You're… right on the nose. I'm short on hands, and I need every one of them to keep this station running and out of enemy hands. I can offer supplies, arms, directions, and luck… but that's it. I promise that if you do fix it and return safely, you will be the first to use our equipment."

Serhas gave an exhausted sigh as he cracked his neck, resigning himself to the fact that his mission would need to be delayed.

"Okay. Point me to where I need to go."

Kimlin smiled as she started typing something on the mapping table, eventually highlighting a portion of the holographic map in red, connecting it to a yellow blob with a green line.

"Fortunately, the dish isn't very far. It's about three klicks northeast, but the Alliance also approached from that direction. We don't have any intel on their current whereabouts, so for all we know, they could have their main encampment there. This location here," she pointed at the red highlighted portion, "is the dish. We need you to go there, discern the condition of the dish, and install a fresh power regulator if it is still possibly operational."

Kimlin walked to one of the computers mounted on the wall and typed something in, which generated a slip of paper that was covered in punched holes. She handed it to Serhas, and their hands brushed briefly for a moment.

"That will give you a pass to take whatever you need from security's armory, within reason, in case you need to stock up on ammunition."

The scout trooper looked to the officer, and it wasn't until now that he noticed just how exhausted she was. Taking the helm of command was a big responsibility, as he could attest to, and the circumstances seemed to be taking their toll.

"I'll be back, and you'll have your uplink back online."

Serhas turned around and left the war room, mulling over the plan as he walked. He wasn't a stranger to these types of operations, of course, but he never liked doing this menial work, especially when it was dangerous. But this time, it was essential to his - nay, the Empire's - survival, so he really had no choice in the matter. He strode right by the armory, seeing as he had used very little of his initial supply, and moved to the washroom instead. The tile floors complemented his plastoid boots as he stood in front of one of the sinks, removing his helmet to get a look at his face. Weathered but alert blue eyes pierced back towards him, his normally shaved beard growing but the tiniest of black stubbles. Chapped lips complemented his rugged appearance, as did the slightly wrinkled brow and shaven head.

He ran the sink for a moment to collect water, splashing it on his face to remove the dirt film - don't ask how he got it with his helmet - and jolt him awake with the freezing quality. A nearby hand towel was used to dry it off again, and he nodded at himself before clasping his helmet back on. The momentary respite rejuvenated him as he jogged back out into the bunker and up the stairs, preparing to once again cross the threshold into Endor's vast forests… and hidden dangers.


	5. Chapter 4 - Linked

Imperial Satellite Network, Day 2, Evening

The walk to the damaged dish was relatively short, lasting for less than an hour, and Serhas was afforded some peace and quiet for the trek. He was lost in thought about the whole ordeal; How had the Alliance manage to destroy the Death Star, the Empire's crowning achievement, not once, but _twice?_ What had became of the Emperor and Vader, who must have been on the battlestation and the _Executor_, respectively? Heck, what happened to the rest of his squad? Many of the seats in the shuttle that were once full had been empty when he awoke; in fact, there were a remarkably low amount of bodies inside the Lambda.

A distant explosion shook Serhas from his train of thought, and at once, he drew his rifle and veered towards the direction of the noise… which had came from the dish network. What was going on, was the Alliance destroying the satellites? He quickened his pace, his black armored feet pounding against the dirt as he ran to his objective. Once the network came into sight, and he started surveying it with his rifle scope, it all began to make sense. The Alliance structures set up around the base of the dishes were being attacked, by a stormtrooper clad in black armor, carrying some sort of heavy blaster cannon in his hands. An orange stripe extended over his left side, crossing his shoulder - a marking denoting rank and allegiance… to Claymore Squad.

"Is that… Selensky?!"

Serhas took aim and fired, pulverizing the head of a rebel that was coming up behind the heavy, which the special ops trooper gazed at for a moment in surprise. Another shot from Serhas' rifle that removed another rebel from play caused him to look at the source of the reinforcing fire. At once, he nodded and put his attention back on the enemy, releasing another torrent of automatic blaster fire towards a clumped enemy. Together, they worked as a team; Selensky was the main assault, while Serhas watched his back. It took a little under an hour for the unstoppable duo to clear the satellite yards, with Serhas having to change positions several times, but as the last Alliance soldier fell, both of them were washed over with a sense of relief.

Serhas stood up from his prone position and ran towards his comrade, eager to reunite with another member of his squad. When in shouting distance, Selensky was the first to speak, boisterously proclaiming his shock in a thick accent, similar to our counterpart of the Scottish.

"Vaitli?! I am… _supriiiised_ to see you!"

"Holy- Jakotris, I thought you guys were dead!"

The two sat down in the wreckage of an Imperial transport and talked for what felt like a few minutes but was in reality two hours, sharing their sides of their stories. Jakotris explained how Claymore Squad had fled the wreckage shortly after the crash, as Alliance soldiers had came to investigate the bird they just shot down. Serhas had been left behind because the rest thought he had perished with a few of the other recruits - which Jakotris apologized for - and they were being chased anyways. In fact, they had forgotten to grab the data chip, and he expressed immense relief when Serhas showed it to him. To escape capture or execution, the squad had to split up and rendezvous elsewhere, but they never were able to meet Jakotris arrived, he found two dead Claymore recruits at the scene. He figured that the Alliance had tracked them there, and the others backed off to save the rest of their hides. When asked why he was here, Jakotris replied that he had been angered by the loss, and discovered the network while on a rampage. It was only by dumb luck that the two had arrived at relatively the same time, or else there would've been a good chance that he wouldn't make it out alive.

Serhas then explained his side of the ordeal - which you, dear readers, have already read - and explained that he was here to repair the uplink so the bunker southeast of here could contact the Empire. They both agreed that the ulterior motive was to get in league with Captain Okee and establish a method of evacuation. That data chip was their main responsibility, and they doubted the Empire would afford them a shuttle out of Endor if they didn't have it.

Once they finished recounting and agreeing on a plan of action, Serhas stood up and walked to the satellite network's control room. As Kimlin had speculated, the power regulator had been removed from its port, but fortunately, the spherical device was still sitting right next to it.

_It was a mistake to leave it operational,_ Serhas thought to himself as he grasped the handle of the regulator and shoved it back into the port. At once, the consoles in the room went ablaze with lights before muting down to dim glimmers. One of the screens displayed the status of the power conduits, and the first one glowed red instead of green, as it was the one that had blown. He turned to Jakotris, who had been observing Serhas work until now.

"Selensky, I need you to go replace Conduit 1A, by the first dish. There should be another one nearby ready to be cycled."

Jakotris nodded and left the control room, jogging back down the stairs of the scaffolding to complete his task. Serhas only needed to wait for a few minutes before the red display turned green, and the dishes began recalibrating to reconnect with the orbital satellite network above the planet. Fortunately, it hadn't been taken down by the rebels yet - he doubted they even knew about it, despite their knowledge of the dish network - and contact was established. Serhas moved to a communication console and opened a channel with the listening outpost. In an instant, Kimlin's face filled the screen as he began reporting, a smile already creeping on her expression.

"Commander, the uplink has been repaired and re-established. Contact with the satellite network has been confirmed."

The young commander nodded as she eagerly responded.

"Yes, we know. I've already contacted the Empire, and they're sending a shuttle to evacuate us! We just need to hold out until tomorrow, and then we can leave this blasted rock. I don't know how to tha-"

"Yes, yes, we both know I am the savior of your men. Now, I need to contact the Eternal Fist. Any chance you can patch me through to it?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Let me just…"

Kimlin looked down to the console as she began typing something in. Within a minute, Jakotris walked back into the control room as the display changed to Captain Okee's curious glare. His graying hair matched the metal of the destroyer, as did his eyes, and his bearded mouth turned into one of a smile.

"_Ah, so Claymore Squad lives. I received the report yesterday that your shuttle had been shot down. Good to see you're still kicking, Sergeant."_

Serhas couldn't help but crack a smile of joy under his helmet. He had missed the gentle demeanor of his commanding officer, a rare quality of Imperials of his stature and tenure.

"Yes, sir. I can only confirm that Selensky and I are still alive. The rest of the squad is MIA, and the recruits we brought along have all been confirmed KIA."

"We need immediate evac, Captain," Jakotris interjected, "We have the data chip with us and need to get it off of Endor."

"_You still have the cargo? Good, good! The primary mission is still a go. Listen carefully. You are in the deep of Alliance territory right now. Besides the listening outpost you have surely just come across and aided, you will find no Imperial assistance here. The nearest Imperial garrison that hasn't yet fallen is thirty klicks west of your location. When we receive word that you have arrived, we will send a Lambda to evac you. We can't risk it otherwise."_

Serhas nodded as he took in the directives. Thirty klicks wasn't that bad, he had marched longer distances before. Yet, his survival of those journeys had rarely ever been as important as it was right now. Perhaps some transportation would be in order…

Jakotris broke his train of thought as he posed a question to the captain.

"Sir, what about the listening post? How would evacuation teams get in for them?"

Serhas had paid the post no mind as soon as he got into contact with the Eternal Fist, but it was a good question. If Jakotris and him had to hoof it west, then why would that seemingly unimportant base get a free ticket home?

"_Evacuation? Ha, so they did buy it. No, evac is not coming for them. One of the remaining ISDs is scrubbing the base's datacore remotely. Once all of it is acquired and purged, their reactor will be overloaded and the listening post will collapse in on itself. Like I said, we can't risk sending more ships to the same fate as your own, and Command has deemed the personnel of insufficient importance."_

Serhas said nothing of this revelation, and felt an equally empty set of emotions, save for a very slight tinge of betrayal. Those people were going to die, for no reason other than that the Empire doesn't want to even attempt to retrieve them. He took a look at the datachip in his hand, and briefly wondered what his own fate would be if he wasn't carrying such a valuable asset.

Jakotris' reaction was quite pronounced in comparison. Serhas could feel his shock radiate from him as he began to object.

"Cap, those people are innocent. You're just gonna… kill them?"

"_Correction: I'M not going to kill them, the fine folks over at the Forlorn Hope will."_

Serhas saw Jakotris' eyes widen ever so slightly as a light smile crept upon Saris' wrinkled face. This was… unlike the Captain, to say the least. He had never been so complacent with Imperial losses. Had the destruction of the second Death Star changed his outlook?

"_In any case, we can't stay on Endor forever. This planet is lost, and we will perish along with our other comrades if we don't get out of here. You need to get moving before we're forced to leave you behind. Eternal Fist out."_

The communication line cut out before Serhas could object, and he was left somewhat aghast. It was almost as if he was speaking to an entirely different person… He looked to Jakotris as they both returned their helmets to their rightful places, protecting their skulls. The heavy weapons expert was the first to speak, a disturbed tone cloaking his words.

"Sergeant, we need to go warn those people. We can't just… let them die, right?"

Serhas responded with his usually calm and collected manner of speech, though it wouldn't take a psychologist to tell that he was equally as perturbed by the development.

"Agreed. We'll need all the hands we can get if we want to make it to that garrison in one piece. Come on, le-"

A thunderous tremor interrupted the sergeant, shaking them both, and a bluish white plume of flame sprouted from afar, bathing the control center in white light. They both beheld the sight with a sinking feeling in their guts, on borderline despair. The event made one thing painfully clear: the listening post would listen no more. Jakotris uttered a curse as he started backing away from the shattered window.

"Karablast…"

Serhas picked up his rifle from where he had set it and sighed before setting a hand on his comrade's shoulder.

"We need to find what remains of Claymore. Where was their last sighting?"


	6. Chapter 5 - Fine Additions

Sensing that Jakotris shared the same exhaustion as he, Serhas suggested that the two rest up while they were still in a fortified position. Jakotris agreed, and the two had slept in shifts, one resting with the other keeping watch for any Alliance do-gooders who decided to investigate why the dish network had been cleansed of rebel presence. Fortunately, this didn't happen, and the two were left undisturbed for the duration of the night.

In the morning, the two discussed a plan of action. Jakotris and the rest of Claymore Squad had split up at a clearing in the forest five klicks northwest. Of course, this worked in their favor, since they needed to go in that direction anyway. According to Selensky, the recruits they had brought along during the trip had either died during the crash, or had been killed during the squad's escape from the Alliance investigators. The actual squad was… mostly alive, as far as he knew; Seneca, Serhas' second-in-command, had assumed control upon his supposed death. Cerone, their technical expert, had taken some hits, but was okay, judging from the last time he saw him. Valysia, the medic, was lacking in supplies, as she wasn't able to grab her medical bag before being warded off; Lastly, Derik, their stealth operative, had perished during the initial assault, having taken a blaster bolt to the head before he could react.

Their conversation was cut short by a passing Alliance blockade runner, flying dangerously close to the dish network. For a brief moment, Serhas thought it was coming for them, but that fear was dispelled when the ship flew right by, seeming to pay no mind to the wreckage of the hastily crafted Alliance defensive structures.

"You know, we might not need to hoof it all the way to that garrison after all."

Serhas looked to Jakotris, who continued without waiting for input.

"That ship was heading in the direction we need to go. If we follow it, we could find out where it lands and hijack it. All we'd need to do is take control of the bridge and recalibrate the defensive systems to kill off the rebels. We've done it before, remember?"

_Oh, I remember, _Serhas mused as he thought back to the mission Selensky referred to. It was the battle of Ontotho, a standard pacification op. Well, it was "standard" until an Inquisitor marched in and tore the place up looking for a Jedi. His squad had boarded a blockade runner that was harassing one of the ISDs orbiting the planet, and fought their way to the bridge; fortunately, it was nearby to where they first inserted, or else they likely wouldn't have been able to clear the ship. Once they had taken control, it was trivial to lock it down and begin venting the air out of the individual rooms - Cerone's handiwork - which eventually killed mostly everyone aboard the ship via asphyxiation or the sudden pressure change that comes with the vacuum of space. For those rebels who were quick enough to isolate parts of the ship from the main bridge via the secondary, emergency command center they had crafted, Cerone tripped the ship's defensive anti-personnel turrets to fire upon the Alliance registered members instead.

Such a feat could be replicated, of course, but the challenge would be getting aboard a flying vessel. Like Jakotris said, they would need to wait for it to land, and they would also need the rest of their squad if they ever hoped to reach the bridge from the cargo hold, where they would have to board the ship from.

"Yeah. I remember. Alright, once we link up with the rest of Claymore, we'll see about this alternative plan of yours. But for now, we have to assume that our main goal is to reach the Imperial garrison. Pack up, we're moving out."

Another blockade runner passed by as the two started down the stairs leading up to the network's control center, but this one seemed to slow for a moment above the dishes. Serhas and Jakotris stared for about four fearful seconds before the runner increased its pace again, falling back into league with the first, which had far overtaken it in distance. The sergeant sighed as the two departed from the Imperial network, looking back at the gargantuan metal towers for a moment longer. He was indirectly responsible for the deaths of those at the listening post, wasn't he? By reconnecting them with the Imperial satellites, the Empire had been able to tunnel into their infrastru-

_Stop it. There was no way to know. Besides, your objective is more important than their survival..._

Selensky waved over to Serhas, and he caught up with the corporal with no trouble. It was time to leave... and he wouldn't look back again.

The trek was uneventful, for the most part. Besides twice, when the two had to hide within the thick brush of the forest to elude an Alliance patrol - it was almost as if they were becoming more armed, as he noted that they had more heavy vehicles than normal - and another point where they were forced to fight off a group of speeder bikes, they were left unmolested as they mindlessly trotted one foot after the other through the seemingly endless Endoran forests.

_Is 'Endoran' even the proper term? Is it something like… Endorian? Endorish?_

Thoughts of similar stupidity occupied Serhas' mind during the venture, as Selensky and he had long exhausted conversation topics. The Corellian heavy had no interest in repeating his war stories, and neither did the Coruscant-born sergeant.

It was a little after noon before the two came into observation distance of the clearing where Claymore was originally supposed to meet. In the place of the empty field stood… a blockade runner. Serhas supposed he shouldn't be surprised, as four more of the blasted vessels had passed near them during their journey. Figures that one would've landed here, in a rare spot of clear land on this densely forested rock. The sniper adopted a crouched position behind a sufficiently obscuring rock near the face of a steep hill as he propped his rifle up, peering through the scope to get a feel for the situation. He mumbled to himself as he started noting things he saw.

"_Hm… looks like they're picking up cargo. Imperial branded crates. Wonder if they hit an evac shuttle. Wait… oh, kriff. Prisoners."_

He spotted three stormtroopers, bound with metal cord, being escorted by Alliance soldiers towards the ship. Their white armor clashed against the deep greens and browns of the environment, their boots' shine having long been dulled by dirt and grime. The most interesting part about the spectacle was the presence of one particular trooper, whose armor was jet black, adorned with an orange stripe. A member of Claymore squad. But which one were they?

Selensky had also seen the sight, and Serhas could practically feel the anger radiating from him. He whispered to his compatriot in a vain attempt to quell his rage.

"Selensky, let's wait and se-"

Of course, it didn't work, and the heavy disengaged the safety of his blaster cannon and charged out from the brush, letting out a furious shout as he started mowing down the rebels, who had been totally shocked by the intrusion. Serhas had to smite one soldier with his rifle before they whacked Jakotris over the head with a tree branch, allowing adrenaline to start guiding his movements. He shot another soldier in their center mass before automatically switching positions to cover behind a fallen tree. Selensky was having a riot, having turned the loading ramp into a killing funnel, preventing any soldiers from leaving the ship alive. The previously imprisoned troopers attacked their captors, cutting their bindings with knives retrieved from the fallen. Their CQC training showed true as they engaged the closest rebels in melee combat, their fluid movements almost appearing like a choreographed dance. Serhas fired where he could, but the field had been cleared in record time. Selensky was about to enter the ship when the loading ramp suddenly began raising, preventing the Imperials from boarding. The heavy shouted as he fired a few more volleys at the ship itself.

"_YOU BETTER RUN! TEACH YOU TO TAKE OUR GUYS-"_

His taunting was cut off by a thunderous blast impacting near him, the force alone sending him flying. One of the runner's turrets had come online, and it was now engaging the group as it began lifting off. Of course, they stood no chance against the might of a ship's cannons, and were forced to flee into the forest. Fortunately, whoever was piloting the ship seemed to care less about killing their attackers and more about getting out of dodge, as it boosted away from the clearing, heading to the opposite direction from whence it came.

Serhas engaged the heat sink for his rifle and approached the clearing after a minute or so, as did the rest of the troopers. Well, all minus one; one of the stormtroopers had been obliterated by a turret blast, if the shattered remains of plasteel armor and thin slivers of… _meat _were reliable indicators. The black trooper removed his helmet, revealing himself to be none other than Cerone, Claymore's resident techie. He spoke first, with no small measure of relief in his tone.

"Cap, is that you? Stars, I- _we_ thought you were dead! Dumb luck that you came across us, I bet…"

Serhas responded in a well practiced, calculated manner, as he usually spoke.

"Well, not the first time I found one of you guys by dumb luck."

He thought to how he had come up on Selensky at precisely the right time, saving his hide in the process. It was quite convenient that such an occurrence happened not once, but _twice_. Either he had the luck of twenty thousand men, or this was planned. But how?

He dismissed the thought as he posed a question to the newly found Cerone.

"Where are the others? I haven't heard anything about Seneca and Valysia."

"Oh, I'm… not sure. We were all surrounded and captured a few hours ago, they were taken on one of those blockade runners that have been flyin' around. In fact, I'm pretty sure most of these ships around here have been ferrying captured prisoners. But where?"

One of the stormtroopers, who had armed himself with one of the fallen rebel's blaster rifle, interrupted Cerone's pondering with an answer.

"Oh, they've set up a temporary detention facility… uh… west of here? They've probably got their hands full, you know, pillaging the Empire's remains. In fact, I think they're using an Imperial bunker."

"Huh, that makes se- hold on, how do you know about that?"

"My squad was investigatin' it before we were nabbed. If they didn't make us wait for the next runner to come through before shippin' us off, we'd probably already be there."

"Point is, that facility is _temporary_," Serhas interjected, "and we need to get over there before they decide to scuttle it. Do you know if they're taking Claymore there?"

"Uh… well, it's the only place that they're takin' captured troops, far as I know. There wouldn't _be_ anywhere else they would go. Plus, the Empire ain't exactly in the position to be shootin' down rebel craft."

"Right, I remember, they're pulling out…"

An exasperated sigh came out from the trooper, a sign of fatigue.

"Speakin' of, how are they gonna get us out of here?"

"There's a destroyer still in orbit, the Eternal Fist. They'll send a shuttle down to pick us up once we get to the fort northeast of here," Serhas elaborated, "but that won't happen unless we can find out what happened to all of my- _our_ squad."

A lie. It wasn't characteristic of him to lie, especially to his own brothers-in-arms, but he had to get these troopers on board with his plan. He couldn't leave his own behind, considering he wasn't dead as they believed him to be. A duty called to him, and he was beckoned to follow it.

"So we're assaultin' this compound, then?"

Cerone looked to the corpses of their fallen enemies, and Serhas could recognize the look on his face - he had a plan. His assumption was confirmed when he answered the stormtrooper.

"Not… exactly."


End file.
